


Miscommunication

by Queenofthebees



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack Fic, Dorks in Love, F/M, Fluff, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 06:44:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18068537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenofthebees/pseuds/Queenofthebees
Summary: “Fucking hell,” Jon groaned, staring down at where her hand remained on his thigh. “Sansa…you’re drunk.”“Then call me tomorrow,” she insisted, retreating back into her seat. Jon scoffed.“You want me to call you tomorrow and ask for a blowjob?” he asked incredulously, shaking his head as he finally started the engine. “You’re drunker than I thought. I’m going to kill Theon for letting you drink so much!”“I’ve fancied you for as long as I can remember,” she replied hotly, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring out of the window. “And I’m seventeen, I can have sex if I want.”“Yes, but that doesn’t mean you have to,” Jon countered before his head snapped to hers. “Wait, what?!”





	Miscommunication

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amymel86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amymel86/gifts).



> Sorry Amy, the smut just wouldn't happen lol. But maybe, I'll add a second chapter at some point where they do the dirty :p  
> Happy Birthday!

She should have known that something was up when she couldn’t find her phone. Sure, she was drunk but she distinctly remembered putting it down on the coffee table before she had gone to the bathroom.

On the way back, she got a little distracted dancing with Margaery, and perhaps if she hadn’t been so caught up in the party atmosphere, she would have paid more attention to her friend’s knowing smirk.

It was when Theon, Margaery’s neighbour who had gotten them the booze, had sent her a lewd wink and a smirk that she had started to think something was wrong.

She knew Theon too, he was friends with her brother Robb and of course, Jon. Jon Snow, her persistent crush since she had been old enough to notice boys. She still believed her insistence on dating Joffrey was to make everyone think that she preferred the clean-cut, blonde types, when really, she had spent far too many nights thinking about how Jon’s beard would feel against her skin instead and how his black curls would feel beneath her fingers.

Of course, Jon was nineteen and he would never notice her. She was just Robb’s little sister who he sometimes had to put up with when the lads came around to hang out at the Stark’s household.

Although, she remembered the night Joffrey had parked outside her house to drop her off after a date and he had slammed her against the door of his car, his hand shoving between her thighs with rough possession, when Jon had appeared out of nowhere.

She had scrambled over the gear box as Jon hurled Joffrey out by the collar of his shirt and out onto the road.

“If I ever see you near her again,” Jon growled, standing over Joffrey’s cowering form, raising a clenched fist in warning.

When she had managed to get to him, her whole body shaking, he had turned towards her, his face melting instantly into concern. His hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her close to him into a protective embrace, and Sansa had clutched trembling fingers into his shirt to secure herself in his protection, and allowed him to lead him back into the house.

Sometimes she thought about the way he had looked at her as she had sipped slowly at some tea to calm herself. He had looked as though he was heartbroken at the thought of her being hurt. But whenever she had such thoughts, she would just as quickly dismiss them. If she had learned anything after Joffrey it was not to be so naive and expecting love when there was none to be had.

"Sansa!"

She turned at the soft northern burr, sure she was imagining it since she had just been thinking of him. But there he was, with his stupidly gorgeous curls falling into his equally gorgeous eyes as he looked at her from the doorway.

"Oh, hi!" she greeted awkwardly, her hands automatically jumping to her hair to fus s with the stray strands. "What...what are you doing here?"

Jon frowned. "Your text."

"Oh, Sansa, Are you leaving?" Margaery called, tottering over in her heels. "Here, don't forget your phone."

"Thanks," Sansa replied, taking the phone distractedly. The appearance of Jon had made her forget about the previous disappearance of her phone. She pocketed it without thinking much more about it and turned back to Jon with a shy smile. “So, um…”

“Do you want me to take you home?” Jon asked and Sansa blinked at the way his entire face and neck flushed, and he shook his head quickly. “Not that I’m expecting you to…”

“Ah, here at last Jonathan!” Theon drawled, draping an arm around Jon’s shoulder and sloshing beer down his shirt as he shot a grin between Sansa and Jon. “Sansa might need a ride home pal.” Theon smirked down at his cup. “You’ll give her a ride, won’t you Jon?”

“Shut up Greyjoy,” Jon growled, although his wide eyes made the bite a little less terrifying than he had intended. Sansa gave a bewildered blink and tugged nervously on her braid.

“If you can give me a ride Jon, I’d like that.”

“So would he,” Theon sniggered, clapping Jon’s shoulder and moving away before Jon could swipe at him.

“Come on,” Jon muttered, already turning away from the house.

Sansa called out a rushed goodbye and hurried after him, her heels clicking unsteadily against the path. Jon stopped at the sound, turning towards her and holding an arm out silently. Sansa stepped beside him with a grateful smile, the fresh air making her realise she was drunker than she had previously thought. And Jon’s hand burned through her dress as he held her steady on their way to his parked car but she couldn’t bare to step away from him.

“How much have you had?” he asked softly, once they were seated in his car and he had flicked the heating on for her.

“Dunno,” she replied honestly because she couldn’t really remember. “Quite a lot.”

Jon nodded slowly and released a long sigh. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Yeah mum would go mad if she knew I was drinking,” Sansa responded, shooting him a grateful smile. Jon nodded again.

“I won’t mention the text to anyone either.”

“Text?” she said before she remembered he had mentioned a text earlier too.

“The one where…” Jon trailed off with a bright blush, his hand reaching up to rub his beard in that sweet, shy way he did when he was nervous. He blinked owlishly as Sansa scrambled with her coat and dug out her phone.

She could feel her heart plummet as she opened her phone up and entered the messages box, only to see Jon’s name right at the top. She hadn’t sent him a text at all and she shot him a glance, hoping he would elaborate. But Jon was staring at the phone in her hand, his blush only seeming to get darker still.

With shaking fingers, Sansa pressed the name to bring up the messages history and immediately felt a blush of her own creeping across her entire face.

**00.09:** _Hey Jon, wanna make a deal?_

The next text had been sent just over a minute later.

**00.10:** _If you’re a good boy, and come and get me, I’ll give you a blow job._

**00.12:** _I told Margaery I really wanna suck your dick Jon._

**00.13** : _You gonna be a good boy for me Jon??_

**00.13:** _You gonna give me a ride?? : )_

And then, Jon had replied, the panic and confusion clear even in the text.

**00.15 _:_** _Wtf Sansa??_

**00.15** : _Are you okay???_

**00.15:** _How much have you had??_

**00.16:** _Okay, I’m coming to get you. Stay where you are!_

“I didn’t come and get you because of…that!” Jon said quickly, no doubt seeing how her jaw had dropped and her blush had crept down her neck.

Her head jerked up at his voice and Jon looked so adorable with his wide eyes, larger behind his round glasses, looking like a child caught with his hand in the biscuit tin.

“I was just worried you had had too much to drink if you were sending …that stuff.”

“I didn’t send these!” Sansa squeaked, casting another glare at her phone as realisation dawned. “Urgh, I’m going to _kill_ those two!”

Margaery must have told Theon her phone’s password, and even though Sansa figured Theon probably knew about her crush on Jon, Margaery must have added some fuel to the fire. She had drunkenly confessed to Margaery once that she had thought about sucking Jon off before, the thought of driving him mad with want in revenge for all the years he had caused her ruined panties.

“I mean, I should have known it wasn’t you at all, drunk or not,” Jon mumbled quickly, slumping back against his seat. Sansa glanced at him, taking in the way his mouth turned down and his eyes were lowered towards the steering wheel, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. But it was the long, dejected sigh which made the pieces click in her mind at last.

“Did…would you have wanted me to?” she asked slowly, forcing herself to keep staring at him despite the embarrassment thrumming through her veins at the fear she had read him wrong.

“What?” Jon spluttered, his eyes comically wide behind his glasses and his cheeks darkening. “I…no. I mean, I’d never expect a blowjob in exchange for a lift or anything!”

“But, would you have wanted me to want to give you one?” she pressed, angling herself to sit sideways and fix him with an impatient stare as he opened his mouth to protest with more pointless words. “Just tell me right now, do you like the idea of me sucking you off?”

“This is absurd,” he muttered, turning away from her with a mirthless laugh. “Why are we even discussing if you’d give me a blow job or not? You said you didn’t send the texts.”

“But, do you wish I did?” she pressed, pressing a hand to his thigh. “Because even though I didn’t send the text, I wouldn’t say no.” She bit her lip shyly. “It’s true that I told Margaery that I wanted to.”

“Fucking hell,” Jon groaned, staring down at where her hand remained on his thigh. “Sansa…you’re drunk.”

“Then call me tomorrow,” she insisted, retreating back into her seat. Jon scoffed.

“You want me to call you tomorrow and ask for a blowjob?” he asked incredulously, shaking his head as he finally started the engine. “You’re drunker than I thought. I’m going to kill Theon for letting you drink so much!”

“I’ve fancied you for as long as I can remember,” she replied hotly, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring out of the window. “And I’m seventeen, I can have sex if I want.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean you have to,” Jon countered before his head snapped to hers. “Wait, what?!”

“I’ve had a crush on you since I was at least twelve.”

“You’ve _what?_ ”

Sansa shrugged. “I mean, I figured you didn’t like me like that but…”

“I did, I _do_!” Jon insisted, switching off the engine again and reaching for her hand, squeezing it tightly. And then he seemed to remember himself and pulled it away again, her hand still warm from his touch. “But I’m still not letting you do something stupid when you’re drunk.”

“Then call me tomorrow,” she insisted and when he opened his mouth, ready to protest, she reached forward to press a finger to his lips. “And we can go out, catch a movie or something, yeah?”

He softened instantly, his lips curving slightly beneath her fingertips and Sansa tried not to imagine how soft they were, how good they would feel against hers.

“I’d happily take you on a date tomorrow,” he agreed, making Sansa beam.

“And if you’re a good boy,” she teased and Jon fell away from her with a groan.

“You’re a fucking tease, do you know that?”

Sansa shrugged, leaning back in her seat with a triumphant grin. “So, you _do_ want me to!”

She expected Jon to scoff or roll his eyes again, call her a tease. But instead he turned to face her and fixed his eyes on her lips as his tongue slowly swiped across his full bottom lip, making a sudden heat flood her body.

“Almost as much as I want to have my mouth on you.”

“Do I have to be a good girl for that?” she asked breathlessly.

Jon smirked. “You can be whatever you want sweetheart. I’ll be doing it all the same.”

Maybe murdering Margaery and Theon was a little hasty, Sansa reasoned. Perhaps, she should look into getting them a fruit basket instead.


End file.
